‘Yes, governor,’ Smith replied, lightly, with a Manchester accent.  ‘And what’s your game?’

Sir Jee was taken aback.  He, the chairman of the borough Bench, and the leading philanthropist in the country, to be so spoken to!  But what could he do?  He himself had legally established Smith’s innocence.  Smith was as free as air, and had a perfect right to adopt any tone he chose to any man he chose.  And Sir Jee desired a service from William Smith.

‘I was hoping I might be of use to you,’ said Sir Jehoshaphat diplomatically.

‘Well,’ said Smith, ’that’s all right, that is.  But none of your philanthropic dodges, you know.  I don’t want to lead a new life, and I don’t want to turn over a new leaf, and I don’t want a helpin’ hand, nor none o’ those things.  And, what’s more, I don’t want a situation.  I’ve got all the situation as I need.  But I never refuse money, nor beer neither.  Never did, and I’m forty years old next month.’

‘I suppose burgling doesn’t pay very well, does it?’ Sir Jee boldly ventured.

William Smith laughed coarsely.

‘It pays right enough,’ said he.  ’But I don’t put my money on my back, governor, I put it into a bit of public-house property when I get the chance.’

‘It may pay,’ said Sir Jee.  ‘But it is wrong.  It is very anti-social.’

‘Is it, indeed?’ Smith returned dryly.  ’Anti-social, is it?  Well, I’ve heard it called plenty o’ things in my time, but never that.  Now, I should have called it quite sociablelike, sort of making free with strangers, and so on.  However,’ he added, ’I come across a cove once as told me crime was nothing but a disease and ought to be treated as such.  I asked him for a dozen o’ port, but he never sent it.’

‘Ever been caught before?’ Sir Jee inquired.

‘Not much!’ Smith exclaimed.  ’And this’ll be a lesson to me, I can tell you.  Now, what are you getting at, governor?  Because my time’s money, my time is.’

Sir Jee coughed once more.

‘Sit down,’ said Sir Jee.

And William Smith sat down opposite to him at the table, and put his shiny elbows on the table precisely in the manner of Sir Jee’s elbows.

‘Well?’ he cheerfully encouraged Sir Jee.

‘How would you like to commit a burglary that was not a crime?’ said Sir Jee, his shifty eyes wandering around the room.  ’A perfectly lawful burglary?’

‘What are you getting at?’ William Smith was genuinely astonished.

‘At my residence, Sneyd Castle,’ Sir Jee proceeded, ’there’s a large portrait of myself in the dining-room that I want to have stolen.  You understand?’

‘Stolen?’

’Yes.  I want to get rid of it.  And I want—­er—­people to think that it has been stolen.’

’Well, why don’t you stop up one night and steal it yourself, and then burn it?’ William Smith suggested.

‘That would be deceitful,’ said Sir Jee, gravely.  ’I could not tell my friends that the portrait had been stolen if it had not been stolen.  The burglary must be entirely genuine.’